OFFICE VISIT (CLOSED TO SYLVIA)

[reticence]

Faolan doesn't know what to expect, to have been called to Sylvia's office like this as he has. Although he supposes he really should have suspected it. She is the President, after all. And as the President, she should probably be curious as to why a member of the Hillingdon clan, a faction that usually stays well away from any involvement in such activities, should suddenly have elected to nominate a candidate for such purposes. The dilemma is, what is he going to tell her. How much can he tell her? Is that even what she'll ask of him?

A million questions are racing through Faolan's head and he's doing his best to try and keep up and find answers to each one of them by the time he makes his way to her door. Swallowing back his nerves, hoping that he at least appears to be in control of himself, he raises a hand to knock.

Comments

[brightwitch]

[Gonna assume this takes place before the Croydon territory claim for the sake of Sylvia's sanity...]

Yes, it was... interesting that the Hillingdon Clan finally decided to nominate a candidate to become a Guardian. Sylvia isn't sure whether this particular individual decided to nominate himself without consulting anyone else (the Clan isn't exactly known for its unity) or whether the faction has its own ulterior motives. Either way, she's interested. This could be an opportunity to finally get some decent intel into a faction that has all too often proved rather elusive.

So she summons him to her office in Westminster, for what she describes as an informal chat.

Informal, for Sylvia, means not sitting behind her desk. As he enters, Faolan will find the President seated on a nearby couch, legs crossed, and gesturing him over with a friendly smile.

"Faolan, welcome. Please sit down. Would you like some tea?"

There's a teapot covered by a floral tea cosy on the coffee table in front of her, as well as two teacups and saucers. Plus a little sugar bowl and a miniature jug of milk. It's all rather twee.

[reticence]

[That sounds good to me!!]

While Faolan has been to the Night Council office building several times since his initiation, he's never really stuck around or ventured that deep inside of it. The man that had been training him was rather no nonsense, which Faolan appreciated, and had a tendency to take things out in the field, which was more than fine with him, considering it was hardly appropriate to learn the job in a theoretical sense from an office, considering he wasn't going to be getting one. Not unless he decided to rise in the ranks, which wouldn't be something that he'd choose (of his own accord, at least).

Since he's been there enough already, he knows the general layout of the interior of the building. But he's never been inside any of the offices, and certainly not inside the President's herself. He hardly knows what to expect, when he is invited to enter, his only experience of the woman being his interaction with her at the initiation, which was hardly interaction at all.

The scene that greets him is both startling and pretty much exactly what he'd expected. It takes him a moment to shake himself out of it before he can step forward and take the proffered seat.

"Sure," he responds, regarding the tea, not because he particularly wants any, or even cares for tea in and of itself, but because it's the polite thing to do, and he hasn't forgotten all of his manners. (Just a lot of them.) "Thanks," he remembers to add, belatedly.

[brightwitch]

"Do you take milk or sugar?"

However he answers, she'll pour him some tea in his preferred form. Then she takes a sip from her own cup and, hey presto, they're chatting over tea like old friends.

"I'm curious." Sylvia leans back in her seat, regarding him over her teacup. "We haven't had a Guardian from Hillingdon in some time. What made you decide to join us?"

[reticence]

Faolan hesitates, not certain what she wants from him in the first place and therefore a little uncertain how to respond, before he speaks up to request milk. Watching her add it to his tea before bringing it over to him and. Honestly, there's something a bit odd about being served by what is essentially his boss. His new boss, at that.

Faolan holds the teacup in both hands but doesn't drink from it, not yet, as he contemplates his response. "I don't suppose you would believe me if I said that it was because I wanted to make a difference..." he posits, at last. Knowing that even if he'd tried to make it believable, being from Hillingdon, it wouldn't have been. It's a good reason to join the Guardians of the Night Council, but it's Lancelot's reason, not his.

[brightwitch]

"Don't worry about second-guessing me," she reassures him, guessing at once that this is the cause of his hesitation. "I'm not here to judge, or to disbelieve, or distrust you. Speak your truth and I'll believe it."

She trusts him to take his role seriously. And she hopes he'll soon realize that he can do his job more effectively if he's honest with her.

[reticence]

Honesty. He lets out a little snort at that. He can't help it -- she has to know that his motivations for joining himself are less than admirable. Certainly not the same motivations as others who have joined with him. Then again, they are not the motivations of those who would have joined in his stead. And that, in the end, is why he had volunteered himself forth.

Faolan waits for a long moment, staring down into his tea and debating his answer before he finally responds, "I decided to join you because there was noise from within my faction that certain parties would like a Hillingdon Guardian at last. I volunteered myself forward to make certain I knew that I could trust who that person was. Trust that they wouldn't..." He trails off, shrugging slightly, but he's certain that she catches his drift. Hillingdon may keep itself to itself, but no doubt the unrest that is growing within it has reached the ears of others on the outside by now.

[brightwitch]

"Wouldn't what?" There's a hint of sharpness in her voice. She wants him to spell it out. Better to hear it from his mouth now, have everything out in the open. That way they will know where they stand with each other.

[reticence]

Faolan lets out a deep breath. He knows he must finish this thought, now that he has begun it. So keeping his eyes down at his teacup, he continues. "Wouldn't be a plant to stir up trouble. I would like for Hillingdon to continue as they have done. I do not think that their place is in politics. I do not think that they have a place in any of this really. But there are those within who don't believe the politics should exist in the first place. So if I must volunteer myself, my services, to ensure that the peace is maintained, then. I will do my best."

He raises his head towards her, slightly sheepish he has come out and said even this much. "Besides. Isn't that what the Night Council is all about? Maintaining the peace? Perhaps you selected the right candidate in me after all." He takes a deep breath, stealing himself, before plunging forward. "Something tells me there's more to why you called me here today than that, though."

((ooc: optional fade to black from here to have them go on to discuss what we planned, or we can continue this if you're game? i just don't like dropping things on my end SO I WILL LEAVE IT UP TO YOU HAHA))

[brightwitch]

It's a good answer, which is to say it's what she wants to hear. Sylvia nods.

"I called you here because I want the same things that you want. To maintain the peace. I believe that Hillingdon's independence should be preserved, but it's always a delicate balance when it comes to the more... extreme members of the clan." She's sure he knows what she's talking about. "That's where you can help. Be the voice of reason in the clan. Encourage everyone to keep the peace. I want you to be my eyes and ears in Hillingdon. The Night Council has to know of any threats to our security, no matter where they come from."

As a member of the faction, he's uniquely placed to sniff out any threats. He is, she hopes, trusted by the other hunters and clan members. This is what will give him – and consequently the Night Council – an advantage in looking out for the Hillingdon community.

[ooc: welp she just spelled it out so if you're game to continue or want to leave it there, I'll go with whatever!]

[reticence]

"You want me to spy for you. On my own people," he says, the words more of a statement than a question. The sound of his voice less offended by the idea than the average person might be, perhaps. At heart, after all, they are after the same thing. Allegedly. Whether that should hold true in times to come has yet to be seen -- if he should truly sniff out a threat, after all, he can only imagine what he's going to be asked to do about it. But it's a good strategic move, on her part, and it makes Faolan think better of her for asking.

He takes a moment to contemplate the matter, eyes directed down at the teacup in his hands, swirling the drink in the cup before he speaks up to give his response. "I do not know whether I have any choice in the matter to begin with," he says, flicking his eyes up to her again. "But I will do what you ask." He takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly. "They will not listen to outside reason. And those on the inside are more likely to voice their assent than to keep the peace." He glances across at her, studying her features for a moment, before continuing, "I will do what I can."

[brightwitch]

She's giving him an order, which means he doesn't have a choice. But it's always more polite to maintain the illusion that he does, so Sylvia waits for him to agree before nodding, and then takes a sip of her tea. The fact that Hillingdon are more likely to listen to one of their own is exactly why she wants someone on the inside. She's glad that he understands that.

"Thank you," she says, voice soft. "Anything you find out, report directly to me. You'll be my direct channel to Hillingdon. Understood?"

The fewer people that know about this, the better. Best to keep it under wraps.

[reticence]

Faolan nods. He does understand. He understands what she's asking of him, he understands why she is, and he understands perhaps something of everything she is not saying to him too. Of where this could lead, depending on how it goes. And what it means for her, what it means for him. What it would mean for everyone, to have a direct channel to Hillingdon in the Night Council, when Hillingdon have been notoriously separate for all this time. Does he have a choice in it? Not at all. But he supposes it's better her choice than what some of the clan leaders in Hillingdon might put him up to.

"I will keep you informed," he says. Because it is the truth, for better or for worse. He swore an oath, after all.

[brightwitch]

She smiles. "Then I look forward to working with you."

She puts her teacup down on the table and stands up, brushing the creases from her skirt. As soon as Faolan follows suit, she'll show him to the door. For now, they've said everything they needed to.